The Breakup Bagarre
by April Twelving
Summary: A series of small, rather nondescript pieces of how Hotaru feels after her breakup with Ruka Nogi.
1. Chapter 1

**April's Note: Based on a personal breakup. Let me know how it is, and if you'd like to read more of this :)**

**Disclaimer: Gakuen Alice or anything related to it is owned by the rightful people, and not me. The plot and its setting are however mine, and I'd like you to not infringe on it, please. **

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><p>Her heart quickens and skips a few beats altogether when she sees a new e-mail pop up, when his name is marked in thick, bold black letters, indicating that the new, unread message is from him.<p>

The messages he has been sending of late have been hateful, dripped in antagonistic splashes of angry words, reflecting sorrow though he pretends it is not.

A sour sniff; it certainly wouldn't be the same as her sorrow for unfeeling as she was thought to be, their relationship has had a greater impact on her than him. It is so like him to backlash when the greater part of the fault was on him. Ruka Nogi had another side from what met the eye.

And she is the only one to know that.  
>It hurts her too much.<p>

But oh no, it is alright!

For any message from him, whether hateful or not, excites a new spark in her, makes her do a little mental jig of happiness for you see, each message from him means that he is well in health, that his heart beats just fine, that he is living.

Her love lives and that alone is enough for her.

There will be no more of such heart beats quickening at his texts, for he will not text her anymore. She, too, promised that she would not pen down anything to reach across to him.

She will have to learn to be contented with her heart beating fast when she merely recollects thoughts of him, of them.

She will have to learn it the hard way, and face life face on.


	2. Chapter 2

Miscommunication was a b*tch. Hotaru preferred talking things over anything else. Whether it was Mikan who might as well be family, or her clerk at work or even if she was in an important meeting with the Directors of the Board, proper communication was an aspect she always insisted over. She had always believed that there was no substitute to communication, to talking and negotiation.

Miscommunication was indeed a bitch, she thought, while scrolling through the twenty day old conversations she had had with her…well, ex. She'd promised herself that she'd let go of everything binding her to him but somehow couldn't get her finger to simply hover over and press that delete button and wipe out all those telephonic, textual memories of them. It hurt because she knew what went wrong though he might not have a clue.

Miscommunication happened. And that was why it was such a b*tch.

In a haze, she realized that it wasn't her fault that it happened, it was all his. Though some part of the fault was definitely hers, she wasn't to blame, she wasn't guilty.

This is wrong, she thought, when having understood that she'd been putting herself to the guilt-stand all that time. Still, it hurt to manually erase everything. She told her phone what to do, and the deed was done. He was out of her life yet again in another small, largely meaningful way.

It all started with a text. And it was only proper that it ends with a text, too. And all that texting was never equal to talking things out.

Miscommunication—all over again.

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><p><strong>Tell me how it was! :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Gakuen Alice or anything related to it is owned by the rightful people, and not me. The plot and its setting are however mine, and I'd like you to not infringe on it, please.**

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><p>'A confident woman is already beautiful' is what she could make out from the way the tiny pixels were coordinated on the large screen. With being the final sentence of a long lashing text from her best friend, it served as a slap on her cheek. The unharmed cheek was then slapped when she realized that the line was her own; it framed the front cover of her autobiography and Mikan had meant to type it in the end hoping Hotaru Imai might get a kick out of her own words.<p>

Tossing the phone aside, she made her way to the bedside mirror, taking in her reflection very carefully, ingesting every detail of her tear stained face, noticing how the hollow look of her sunken cheeks killed the bright red that once lived there, and made her look ghastly. What did she see? What did her reflection represent? None of that beauty in Mikan's text was shown, that much was certain. She was ugly. She looked ugly, felt ugly. She felt that her confidence depended on those memories of him she'd stacked up in her system. But that sort of confidence was ugly. Hotaru knew that.

She was born beautiful; always confident, never relying on others and carving out her own path in the world, making the world acknowledge that she was truly special was her forte. This, she always realized and it was what kept her drive focused-that she was an alpha.

Ruka Nogi blew in, then blew out and his wind carried away her confident beauty and that sense of Hotaru-ness. His aftermath left her solely mourning after having buried her unshakable strength under several deepest layers.

Disgusted, stern eyes followed a violet hairbrush's movements until the object shattered the mirror across-this sort of ugliness was abominable to her. It was not her.

'I am beautiful' was echoed aloud mentally for a good deal of time till it ingrained in her just a bit. The broken glass was picked slow.

And then, Hotaru picked up her senses, her confidence, herself. Ruka Nogi was now a reflection of the past, and she knew she could break that; he was now another broken shard of glass, ready to be picked up and dumped in the trash.


	4. Chapter 4

**April's note: I wrote all of this while traveling on my phone. Hope my readers like it :)**

**Disclaimer: Gakuen Alice or anything related to it is owned by the rightful people, and not me. The plot and its setting are however mine, and I'd like you to not infringe on it, please**

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><p>It was the thirteenth of that month. Yesterday would have been their eighteenth month anniversary together, had they not separated.<p>

A document sheet was turned during an intense check and that was when the ominous date was noticed; since the day realization had slapped her in the face, she had pulled herself to work with all her might, not minding day nor night in a near blinding sense of wanting to work, to achieve, to simply do anything but sink into herself.

Tims flies when one least expects, they say. Why not otherwise, why would it not fly for her now, why did the day suddenly feel stretched out for her after noticing the date, why should it feel elongated like the ever handy, cheap and brightly colored rubber bands though it had been only twenty minutes since then? No, twenty three minutes actually-she didn't understand why she spent each second of those twenty three minutes only looking at the clock tick sluggishly and abandoned her important document. The latter was specially so unlike Hotaru.

The landscape of the city's vast skyscraper population seen through through the crystal clear, custom designed bullet proof glass of her fifteenth floor office provided a canvas to play out her reminiscing images. The ride on that Ferris Wheel with him, stargazing on that distant cliff that was in view, dinner on top of that intimidating tower for their twelfth month anniversary...

It seemed that every object in her sight had been berating her about him, about them, about what they were and what she lost out on. It was unfair to her when she'd been doing her best to block and avoid it all that time.

Would it be the same for him, would he recall the twelfth of every month, reminisce their past and secretly long for those times like her, were a few questions that constantly stalked her at times like these.

But she knew it well, she knew he didn't have it as bad as her. He had already been happily flirting within a month of their split, and she'd painfully discovered that when scrolling her social news bulletin online.

With a final sad sigh, a slight forward slump of the shoulders, Hotaru Imai decided that she had wasted enough time thinking about that slimeball. The earlier document that distracted her was picked up and perused with great renewed interest.

It was from the Nogi Corporates, a renewal proposal for the contract between their companies that was soon to expire. Hotaru smirked, bright dollar signs in place of her violet orbs. Screw personal interests, this would rake in a good deal. The contract was signed away, and so was her heart along with it.

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><p><strong>Reviews? Opinions? ^^ <strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**April Says: Make sure to read my notes at the end. :)**

**I started to write out this chapter with an entirely different plot in mind from what you are going to read. However, I later forgot what I had in mind. I finished writing this out on my phone like always at a cosy little hotel at an ancient town called Tiruchengode at Tamil Nadu, India. Enjoy!**

Replies:

1. Sweety Girly: Thank you so much for such an encouraging and honest review! I am glad you thought so, and will work at getting better at Rukaru. I hope you get better at it, too!

2. Guest (BlackMaskedBeauty): Here's your update! :)

3. MagicalxDarkxMoonxLord: I am very sorry if I have not replied to your review from before. Please don't be sorry. I am just happy enough that I can create a good read for you from what happened in my life.

**Disclaimer: Gakuen Alice or anything related to it is owned by the rightful people, and not me. The plot and its setting are however mine, and I'd like you to not infringe on it, please.**

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><p>The clock struck one and the cafeteria staff braced themselves for the influx of people who would have been so overworked that they'd have to be served their orders without the slightest delay; everyday work at that branch of the Imai Enterprises was always as busy as a beehive. Though there would be complaints about the work load from the employees at some point or the other, none really detested it. Their collective hard work was what kept their position secure as the second wealthiest company in Japan.<p>

Hotaru Imai was the driving force behind it all. Her employees and colleagues adored her, respected her for that.

Half an hour into the lunch hour had passed and still, the wicker basket bearing the tag 'From Mikan Hyuuga' lay untouched in its usual spot on the couch. Although she teased Mikan that her cooking sucked, Hotaru couldn't nearly do without Mikan's cooking for lunch. The time they spent together as roommates at college made Hotaru addicted to her best friend's cooking.

No matter how busy she would be around lunch, she'd usually finish whatever Mikan sent; it was even normal for Mikan to come over to her office to stick spoonfuls of her food while Hotaru would be poring over files, or working on her inventions. That wouldn't be possible now as Mikan was in the final trimester of her pregnancy.

Sure she would want to waddle over to feed her best friend. But both the said best friend and her overprotective husband would make sure she stays swathed at home under much care.

Half past two said the clock. The sun somehow shone too bright and hot against the thick glass barrier of the room. Add to this the tension of the meeting having risen in the room. Plus, also add the intern stammering through her presentation, taking up more time to get to the point.

And Hotaru Imai's stomach rumbled about.

It is well understood that the sudden crabby behavior of one may be pointed towards less food intake on their part. With that said, good reader, imagine a hot blooded and short tempered woman like Hotaru staying on an empty stomach, sacrificing her hunger to add more worthy work hours and finally subjected to listening to a rather nervous intern's talk.

Yup, her patience snapped like the string that held together a hundred helium balloons; the balloons float up to the sky from the hand that held them, soaring far away up onto the wide sky before bursting out loud when they can't take the altitude anymore. Hotaru's carefully composed manner melted upon the low rumble of her stomach.

Abruptly rising up to her feet, she shot a sharp glance at the poor intern, dismissed the meeting with a nod at her secretary.

Rounded a corner, made her way to her office, to her awaiting lunch basket. Saw a mass of expensive silver suit, shiny shoes and golden blond hair. A pair of twinkling green eyes to top it all off.

It was him. It was Ruka Nogi, her ex.

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><p><strong>April says: Merry Christmas! Here's a small gift from me to you all. The recent ex with whom I had a break-up about which I am basing this story upon? It is ironically his birthday today. Real sad it is, given the rude reply I got when I wished him over a text this morning. I'm just glad that I conveyed across the wish like I wanted to, regardless of whether the reply was downright rude or not. But I'm seething.<strong>

**I'm going to spin the next chapter around the feelings and those three texts from this morning. Hope you like it. **

**Reviews, please? ^^**


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